....and I will be back in Toronto.

Today is a beautiful sunny day. Sam treated me to coffee and lunch at Singel 404 (a small cozy cafe with outdoor patio by one of the canals) and then off to the fair in town for a ride on the ferris wheel :) ... something we had been planning ever since I saw the first fair at Dam square in October last year.

Last night we had some friends over and ate popcorn and drank rooiboos tea and watched Harry Potter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer... the films were projected onto the wall of our flat (using Sam's beamer) while we sprawled lazily on the mattress and cushions layed on the floor... it is the ultimate movie-going experience without actually leaving the comfort of your own home :)

There are a lot of things I look forward to in Toronto... but there are definitely things I'm going to miss in Amsterdam, these were just some of them...

So yes I'm back in Amsterdam as you may have gathered by now... spending my days meeting friends, having an 80 cent latte at the (fairly) new squat dagcafe, still chasing after my return flight details and biking Sam around town - since her knee has given up on her temporarily :(

I'm also reading when I can; finished reading The Buddha of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi and have moved on to Days of War, Nights of Love: Crimethink for Beginners. Planning my return, thinking about starting new projects once I'm back in Toronto, then thinking: why do I have to wait till I'm back in Toronto? Hoping to at least be writing and compiling something that may (or may not) resemble a zine based on my experiences (or rather, reflections more so) on my time abroad. Thinking I'll include some pieces from this blog, add some photos, some parts from my personal journal, as well as exerpts from the books I've been reading. Read another one of CrimethInc.'s publications (Off the Map) in Barcelona - borrowed from the squat library - and since then, I have been inspired in many ways. I'm actually not in the head space to divulge much in this entry, but I was encouraged to update my blog by a friend of mine in Toronto, so here it is. Another entry. Till next time.

Rereading my last entry, I noticed an innocent yet ignorant remark... Of course it matters where one lives and more importantly, other factors such as race, class, ability, sexual preference (and so on and so forth) are key in this matter as well. Only I, who have the privilege of being raised middle-class in the suburbs of Toronto, who is now engaged in the luxury of idle travelling, can make such an innocent comment as: it is our attitude that must change and not so much where we live. How can the experience of living in a war-torn land compare with living in tourist-ridden, posh Venice? To be able to choose to be in the military versus being forced into at age 18, for instance?

The point I was making earlier spoke more to my personal situation than anything else... specifically between a choice of some European destination versus living in North America.... it is my own attitude that must change.

Back in Amserdam, I have so far said "Scuzi" (as in "Excuse me" in my bad Italian) to Dutch people on the tram and "Si,si" to the man behind the counter at the nightshop... I keep shaking my head for not getting the right language in the right country :) I can only laugh at myself and hope some of the Dutch I learned in the months that I have been living in Amsterdam, comes back to me... :)

So it seems I left Bologna for another tourist-filled town... Florence (Firenze in Italian). I am disappointed in Florence. I realize it is because of my expectations, based solely on the words of others. It seems I have confused Florence with the Tuscan countryside... it is in fact not the countryside; rather, it is a metropolitan town catered to North American and European tourists who flash cameras and maps at every corner. I am surrounded by shops that urge me to buy glass from Murano or various Italian-made leather merchandise. I don't want keychains or posters or clothing... I want rolling green hills, the sun shining down (thankfully, it is) and quiet solitude.

Florence, like Venice, is absolutely beautiful. There are piazzas around every bend in the road and the chiesas (churches) are remarkable in their intricate detailing and in their size... you can feel the weight of history bearing down on you as you glance at the marble facades, the campaniles (bell tower), and of course, the frescoes of the infamous dome of Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral (otherwise known as the Duomo). But the impact of all of this is momentarily forgotten under the bright flashes of the tourists' cameras.

It is finally in Florence that I have realized to look within... and not without. That we all romanticize some place, somewhere that is not where we live, where everything is beautiful and idyllic and perfect. For some, it's Paris or Florence or some exotic island off the coast of the Caribbean sea... yet once you arrive at your idolized place, you may realize it is not all that it seems. That if you live in that place, you will soon experience the frustrations and little annoyances of daily life that occur no matter where you live... so I have come to the realization that it is one's approach to life that should change and not where one lives.... that being said, living in Toronto with its grey concrete buildings and its muddy slush that is winter in the city cannot compare with the view of Florence from the cupola of the Duomo or the Dingle Peninsula off the coast of Ireland.

At the end of the day, I suppose I would rather be with the people I love in the muddy slush of Toronto or on the backseat of a fiets (bicycle) in the pouring rain in Amsterdam than alone in Florence or Dingle :)

I can think of no other way to spend a leisurely Sunday than walking down the streets of Bologna and lying under the sun in many of its piazzas. Though most of the shops and bars (bar as in cafe, not bar as in pub) are closed, for a leisurely stroll and simply admiring Bologna's many basilicas and palazzos, a Sunday is the perfect day. Of course, there are the required few cafes open in and around Piazza Maggiore where most of us tourists start and end our day, so one is not completely at a loss.

I have met a few people from the (one and only) hostel that I'm staying at and we are spending most of the day together. One woman, Frinée, who has been studying in Germany for 7 years is here in Bologna to take an intensive Italian language course for 4 weeks. Another woman, Julia, from Germany who has been studying Italian for the last 3 months is taking a 2 week visit through Northern Italy. And last, Angelo, the only "native" Italian among us, is in Bologna for 6 months to take a test that will grant him with the Engineering Degree he has been working on for 5 years in Rome. In fact, I am surprised to hear Italian in my hostel more than any other language - quite the contrast to my experience in Venice - and it seems there are more Italian tourists in Bologna than anyone else.

On the other hand, I did meet a woman (raised in Vancouver, living in Saskatoon) earlier today and in fact, the experience of talking to her was comparable to being run over by a bulldozer! She didn't stop talking, hardly at all, and she continuously spoke of herself... she is touring Europe on her own for 2 months: she arrived in Paris, travelling through Italy, Greece and finally ending her trip in Turkey. And of course, she had to make a comment about how "exciting" it will be to visit Turkey and how she is interested to see how her travels will go there as "most people don't speak English". How much I deplore hearing such ignorant comments (especially by white North American people)! She reminded me of some of what I will hear when I return to Canada... interestingly enough, I don't seem to have come upon many Europeans showcasing their ignorance but then again, this has only been my experience...

In fact, I was identified as a figure of "Canadian solidarity" by my Mountain Equipment Co-op backpack! She approached me (well, really, she spoke to my back) with a simple question: "Are you Canadian?"... a question that no one I know would think to ask because of all it assumes (and some of which it doesn't).... In any case, she was waiting for the bus to town (like us) but allowing herself only 20 mins to catch a train to Sienna... she was rushing to Florence and then hoped to take a day trip to Sienna today only to return to Florence in the evening! If you ask me, I'd rather spend a relaxed day in Bologna than go train-hopping between cities... what else can I say? A few minutes of speaking to her and I, too, felt as if I should be rushing somewhere. But alas I was glad to "settle" for the company of Frinée, Julia and Angelo, and for the experience of lounging about in Piazza Maggiore on a Sunday in Bologna...

Dad, you would be so proud (and happy that I am among Armenians :) Yes today I made the trip to the Armenian Church of San Lazzaro. Apparently, it is a Catholic church though the accompanying monastery is "independent" of any particular sect of Christianity. When I arrived to the requisite Vaporetto* stop a notice - in Italian, English AND Armenian - advised that for a tour of the Church, to please take the vaporetto leaving at 15:10... I knew I was at the right place.

I came back at the appointed time and realized that probably all the other Armenian tourists would be waiting for the same vaporetto at the same time. I looked around and recognized only one distinguishable young Armenian face...a young man who I came to know later as Hovig, of Persian-Armenian persuasian but born in Armenia who is a teacher of microbiology. When we finally boarded the vaporetto, it was I who approached him, with the congenial "Barev dzez!"

Well we arrived to the island and a small group of us got off and made our way toward the entrance. I realized later that these excursions were organized daily and we were each required to pay the 6 euro entrance fee. Our group walked along admiring the posted notices (in Italian) informing us of all things Armenian - language, religion, culture and history. I was beginning to feel this tour was not geared to us Armenians... and soon, I proved to be right...

We were greeted by a friendly priest who attempted to establish what languages the members of our ad-hoc group spoke. There was one family of 3 who were French, another woman - who turned out to be Armenian - and her son but who spoke French, 2 Italian women, an older English couple (what is it with the English?), Hovig and I. Well if there was ever a time where I was proud to be Armenian :) Hovig and I got special attention throughout the tour since we were Armenian (and all the assumptions that come with it, i.e. the priest asked me if I could read some Armenian script above a doorway and when he was going over Armenian history with our group, he often looked to Hovig and I for confirmation of important dates! :)

In any case, all in all I had a great time... I was glad to speak Armenian to someone for a short while and especially to exchange those "inside" jokes which mainly involve making fun of ourselves as Armenians :) and I was both happy and proud that I spoke (and understood) Armenian and that I knew most of the "beginner" Armenian history the priest spoke about. At the end of the tour, there was a stop at their local tourist shop filled with the requisite postcards, bookmarks and books (some of which I recognized in my parents' library :) ... it seems the tourist kitsch in Venice doesn't just end in San Marco... slightly disappointed; nonetheless, I purchased a book (written in Armenian) about San Lazzaro for me and my family... it was a good end to my visit in Venezia.

Tomorrow, I head for Bologna where I plan on staying over the weekend and then off to Florence...

*Note: a vaporetto is a public motorboat in Venice. Think public transportation such as a bus or subway car, but on a boat, gliding along the waters of Venezia...

Well in less than 24 hours I went from being a cold, dirty squatter in Barcelona to being a cold, clean tourist in Venice who paid 45 euro for one night in a hotel (breakfast included). Well that was my first night in Venice, trying to find the cheap hostel recommended in my guidebook by navigating my way through the narrow confusing streets only to arrive 24 mins past the closing time for reception (8 pm). So I was turned away by a voice from an intercom back to the beautiful bridges over the gray-green water of the canals and back to the cobble-stoned narrow streets - this time in search of a hotel (apparently the only establishments one can inquire about accomodation after 8 pm). I soon discovered Venice is nothing like Barcelona where night life stays true to the meaning of the word and bars and other venues are open most of the night. I find Venice practically deserted after 10 pm and getting lost at that time when the only sound you hear is the echo of your own footsteps in the narrowest of streets surrounded by buildings that seem to lean in closer to you... well, it's not my idea of fun.

I did find a hotel eventually and thank goodness for credit cards cause just about everything I'm "paying" for in Venice is going on my visa card. Nothing is cheap in Venezia, not even internet which averages about 7-9 euro an hour! (Compared to one euro an hour in Barcelona, you can appreciate the shock value of internet time in Venice). I have been getting by on "student" rates; though I am in fact not a student at all, my appearance gives the impression that I should be in school (or so it seems) and luckily, I have been able to pay the cheaper rates without showing any proof of student ID.

Expenses aside, Venice is a truly magical city. I have seen no other city like it in my travels in Europe and one can imagine why so many writers and musicians have referenced (or at times lived in, as the expat community will attest) Venezia in their work. My first day in this city, it was fairly warm and the buildings and waters glowed in the sunshine. Today, it is snowing! And yes, it is cold... the only other drawback to being in this city is the tourists - you are more likely to hear English, Spanish, French, German or Japanese than Italian. And of course, everything is marketable to tourists so you're more likely to find restaurants with "tourist menus" and shops selling tourist kitsch than you are to find a supermarket or laundromat (trust me, I tried! Though I did finally find the laundromat ;)

All the same, Venice is an enchanting city... and you can feel the magic in the air...

I had the most unusual and unpleasant experience this morning: I actually had to wake up to an alarm clock :) I had set the alarm for 9:30 am because I planned to make it to a guided tour of La Pedrera (Gaudi´s final work, built 1906-1912 in his characteristic style), starting at 11 am on weekends. Well it turns out that they only offer the tours in English during the week and so I settled for the seven euro admission fee plus 3.50 euro for an audio-guide. It was beautiful inside and I was most dismayed that my camera decided to break this morning so alas, I could take no photos of the interior.

I returned to the squat and met up with Mijkl and headed off to Can Masdeu as we had planned for the 3 pm comador (a pay-what-you-can meal). Can Masdeu is a lovely large squat (it´s more like an estate) near Canyelles metro station, which seems to me on the outskirts of Barcelona, among the mountains. It used o be a children´s hospital I´m told but as it was vacant for quite some time, local squatters squatted it. A newer children´s hospital has in fact been built pretty much next door to Can Masdeu! The squat itself has a ¨Rurbar¨ Cafe, a bike shop and a community garden (for the community at large and not just the residents of Can Masdeu). They also have a free shop (clothing, belts, shoes and even a walking cane) and zines & books & boards full of much information. We were late for the comador but luckily, there was still some delicious warm food left. Taking Mijkl´s lead, we each paid one euro for the meal then ordered some herbal tea (for Mijkl) and cafe con leche (coffee with milk - soya milk in this case) for me. I then lay on a red couch, reading a book, soaking in the rays of sunshine filtering through the window.

All in all, it was a leisurely Sunday afternoon. Tomorrow I set about my final business in Barcelona as I will be leaving early in the day on Tuesday for Venice! :)

Well, finally got to go the Piscines Bernat Picornell yesterday with Mijkl where us two dirty squatters squandered the eight euro fifty for a few hours of lounging in a hot tub (which wasn´t so hot but gave a hell of a body massage), both a dry and a wet sauna, and of course the Olympic-sized swimming pool. Did I mention we took the most luxurious, water-wasting shower ever? :) We were both relaxed (´languid´as Mijkl calls it) and squeaky clean by the end of it, we couldn´t recognize ourselves! :)

Afterwards, we headed to the opening of the squat library and had free vegan food (curried vegetables with seitan and rice, chocolate cake for dessert) and sat around a short circular table on chairs that used to belong to some kindergarten school and talked - of course - politics. Well I wasn't much in the mood for chatting with the punk anarchists that evening so I just relegated myself to browsing through the varied books of the library and settling on CrimethInc's Days of War, Nights of Love, which of course I want to read cover to cover someday.

Today we willed ourselves out of bed at 3:30 in the afternoon (after a couple of hours of reading more activist-inspiring books in bed) and had coffee and breakfast in the kitchen upstairs. Other plans today? Calling my grandmother and a couple of other personal admin calls relating to my return flight...

Now that I have a definite date of departure (from Barcelona), I am finally settling into the pace of this Catalan city... go figure...

A few nights ago I treated my friend Mijkl to a meal that started with sangria and ended with paella... unfortunately, being the tourist trap that it was (we were hungry and somehow ended up on the ultra-touristy La Rambla), it wasn't as good as I hoped. All I could remember was eating paella at my friend Lara´s in Toronto years ago and how I didn´t know what paella was and remembering how delicious she made it (thank you, Lara, for raising my expectations in Spain)! It was also an expensive meal but a nice change from the usual vegan cooking for 10 people (and thus focusing on quantity which often means cramming as many vegetables as you can - or that we have - in a meal) in Mijkl´s squat :)

What I´ve been up to otherwise: helping Mijkl build her wall in her apartment - quite fun (though she did most of the work :) and I have a little scar on my finger to show for it! Mostly I´ve been trying to sort out my return flight (London to Toronto in April) as some issues have arose. I´ve been taking care of other business too, waiting for my bank card to arrive at the Poste Restante at the Central Post Office which my parents gratefully sent (it arrived today - yay! - now I can make plans for the rest of my trip - shad shad shnorhagal em, mama jan!). I have booked a flight already to Venice in Italy for this coming Tuesday and a return flight to Amsterdam from Pisa at a later date. So I will be in Italy for a couple of weeks where I plan to stay in Venice and Florence mostly with the obligatory visit in Pisa to see the campanile (the famous Leaning Tower).

Today Mijkl and I will finally go to the swimming pool I wrote about in my last entry where I can have my second hot shower since arriving in Barcelona over a week ago (and hopefully have access to a sauna and jacuzzi :)